


Something to Stay Alive For

by Wolfling



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Episode: s03e23 Insatiable, Thoughts of Suicide, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/pseuds/Wolfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the funeral, he'd stayed. The others -- her friends, their parents -- had tried to get him to leave, to go with them, to mourn with them, but he wouldn't be moved. He stood and watched as his baby girl was lowered into the ground and <em>buried</em>, dear god. He stood there, staring down at where she had been lain to rest until the light started to fade from the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Stay Alive For

**Author's Note:**

> First Teen Wolf fic of mine without a Stilinski in sight. Just wish it had a happier subject matter. :(
> 
> This is also the fastest I've written a fic in a while.

After the funeral, he'd stayed. The others -- her friends, their parents -- had tried to get him to leave, to go with them, to mourn with them, but he wouldn't be moved. He stood and watched as his baby girl was lowered into the ground and _buried_ , dear god. He stood there, staring down at where she had been lain to rest until the light started to fade from the sky. 

Then he turned and went back to an empty apartment. He went into his office, turned on a single lamp in the corner and sat down at his desk with a bottle of whiskey. He planned to empty it before morning. He still was debating whether he would be emptying the revolver in the drawer as well.

What he didn't do was cry. Chris had cried when his mother had died years ago, when his sister had died, when his wife had died. He'd cried when he had lost particularly close friends. The amount of people he'd seen buried and shed tears over was staggering really, when he let himself really think about it. He usually tried not to.

But he hadn't cried for Allison. He couldn't. It wasn't that he was numb -- part of him wishes that he was, that he could get relief from what he felt even for a second. It wasn't that he was numb, it was the exact opposite. This was a pain that was all encompassing. It was too big, too deep, too _much_ for tears. It was so big he was surprised his heart was still beating, his lungs still drawing breath.

It was what had him contemplating his gun in a way he'd sworn he never would. Not after Victoria. 

He heard the knock at the door, but he ignored it. He didn't want to see anyone, didn't think he could deal with people. He did jump a little when he heard the door being forced open a moment later and his hunter instincts were screaming at him to arm himself and get ready for an attack. He ignored them as well in favor of pouring himself another drink. If something or someone was coming to kill him it would at least solve his dilemma about whether to do it himself.

He did look up when a shadow fell from the office doorway and let out a sigh when he saw who it was. Not death come for him then, though ironically in times past it might have been.

"You're going to need to replace the lock on your door," Derek said as he stepped into the office. 

"Wouldn't be the first time," Chris said as if he actually cared about locks or doors or anything. He looked up and contemplated Derek for a moment, wondering if he told him to get out if he'd leave. Considering the lengths he went to to get in, he somehow didn't think so.

So sighing, Chris gestured at the chair across the desk from him. "I'd offer you a whiskey, but you don't drink." No werewolves did. And he really didn't want to share.

"I'm not thirsty," Derek said, sitting down in the offered chair. Chris waited for him to say more, but he didn't speak again.

The silence dragged on and after a moment, Chris went back to drinking.

Derek seemed content to just sit and watch him, a quiet unassuming presence in the room. After a while Chris decided he found him... not comforting because nothing was comforting to Chris at that moment and he was uncertain if anything ever would be again. But... not grating? Derek wasn't exactly a balm to his soul, but at least he wasn't making anything worse. ( _There was nothing that could make this worse._ )

Maybe Chris even appreciated the company. If nothing else, it at least was keeping him from thinking too much about the revolver in the drawer. 

Not that he thought Derek would judge him if he did pull it out. He wasn't even sure if Derek would try to stop him if he went to use it. Derek at least would understand. If there was anyone he knew who had even the smallest inkling of what he was feeling it was Derek. 

After all Derek had once lost everything too.

"How do you do it?" Chris heard himself ask an unknown time later. He didn't really have much sense of the minutes passing, but judging by the significantly lower levels of whiskey in the bottle, more than a few had. "How do you keep going?"

"I almost didn't for a long time," Derek said after a long moment where Chris began to wonder if he was going to answer. "For a long time it was less about living and more about not dying. I couldn't die. Because someone had to stay alive to remember them."

And those words served to put the revolver in the drawer completely out of reach because that rang far too true to him. No one alive knew Allison as well as he did. He was the only one now who could remember her childhood, the time she, Victoria and himself had been a family. The thought of those memories disappearing as if they never existed -- as if his family had never existed -- was too painful to contemplate, even now. 

"I can understand that, and I can... follow that," Chris said, glancing up at Derek and letting a little of the anger show at having that one escape route from all the pain cut off. "Not sure if that makes me want to thank you or kill you."

Derek raised his eyebrows and gave a half shrug as if to say _Fair enough_. "It does get... well, not easy," he offered. "But easier. To stop just not dying and to start living."

Chris knew it had with past deaths, but this was different. This was his _daughter_ , this was the last of his family that was worth the name. He wasn't sure if this would get better, and more, he wasn't sure if he even wanted it to. But still, he asked. "How?"

"It's a lot like finding an anchor. I had to find a way to live, a purpose, that would honor them. Something that would let them still have an influence on the world through me." Derek hesitated and when he continued it was in a softer, more intimate tone as if sharing secrets. "My mother told me our family were always the protectors of Beacon Hills. So that's what I try to do now -- help protect this town and its people. Like my mother would if she was still here."

That resonated in a way that Chris hadn't expected. " _Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger,_ " he murmured, remembering when Allison had stood in this room and said those words for the first time. Derek looked at him questioningly and Chris explained, "It was the new code Allison gave our family when we officially came out of retirement. She... she wanted...."

"She wanted you to be protectors, not hunters," Derek finished for him, understanding flashing across his face.

Chris nodded, looking down at the glass in his hand.

"Beacon Hills could use all the protectors it can get," Derek offered after a moment.

And yes, that seemed... right. It was something to stay alive for, something that would keep _her_ alive in some small way. When he was ready. He needed some time still to get used to the emptiness in his life and in his heart first. 

Derek seemed to understand what he was thinking because he nodded as if Chris had spoken out loud and got to his feet.

"Derek," Chris called after him as he headed for the door. Derek paused and looked back at him. "Thank you."

Derek nodded again then added after a slight hesitation, "She will be missed and she will be remembered," before slipping out into the darkness beyond the office door.

It wasn't having Allison back alive, so bright, caring and brave. But it was... something. Maybe it wasn't much, but it was the most comforting thing Chris had heard.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://fwolfling.tumblr.com/).


End file.
